Note: This takes place during Sleight of Hand, somewhere between chapters twenty-one and twenty-two. It was a bit too schmoopy, which was why it didn't make the cut. :p -Electra 9/3/13
The small golf cart barely had enough juice left in the battery to make it back to their cabin with all of the extra weight from their recently purchased supplies. Charlie had been kind enough to give them a lift into town when he was driving in to pick up his mail, giving them an opportunity to snatch up some necessities.
The addition of a few simple pots broadly expanded their menu opportunities, which put both Buffy and Faith in a much better mood after two days of spaghettios. Add in a couple bags of groceries and a load of firewood with their combined weight and the engine of the golf car was whining loudly as they came around the last curve to the cabin.
"Come on, buddy, you can do it," Faith cheered, rubbing the dash encouragingly. When Buffy rolled her eyes at the gesture, Faith smiled. "Come on, B. Show the cart some love."
"It's a golf cart; it doesn't need love. It doesn't have feelings!"
"Shh," Faith said dramatically, pulling her other hand from the wheel and putting it on the other side of the dash, gesturing like she was covering the cart's invisible ears. "You wanna jinx us? Don't think you're gonna appreciate it if this thing stalls out and we have to cut holes in the floor to Freddie-Flinstone this bad boy the rest of the way to the cabin."
Buffy shook her head in disbelief but reached out and gave the dash a quick caress, hoping that appeasing Faith would make her put both hands on the wheel again.
Seriously, she gave Buffy a run for the money in the Scariest Driver Ever contest, and that was saying something!
Luckily for the both of them, the cart safely whined and wheezed its way the rest of the way to the cabin and promptly died as Faith parked it beside the charger. Faith plugged it in while Buffy carried in the first load of groceries, trying to make room for them in the small refrigerator and in the wooden cupboards. Faith followed her in shortly after with the second load, working easily beside Buffy to put everything away tidily.
They made a quick dinner of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with some cut up apples and bananas and made it outside just in time to watch the sun set from the back porch. It was quickly becoming a habit for them, even after only being there for a few days.
The wooden furniture on the porch was old but comfortable and Buffy curled up on the right side of the two-person chair with a maroon and black checkered fleece blanket wrapped around her. Faith joined her a few minutes later, carrying a plastic mug of hot chocolate in both hands and offering one to Buffy before sitting beside her.
They sat in silence, staring out at the sun disappearing behind the mountains, setting the entire landscape before them in an orange glow. The lake was so still it looked like a mirror, reflecting the sky perfectly. Buffy sighed happily, sipping slowly on her hot chocolate.
"When I was a kid," Faith began quietly, her eyes fixed on the vista before them, "we never really got to go anywhere. My pops wasn't exactly father of the year and my ma didn't have the cash or patience to do anything fancy with me."
Buffy turned her head so she could look over at Faith and studied her carefully, not sure what had brought on the memory but happy to hear it nonetheless.
"Anyway," Faith continued, "Dad eventually crashed and burned, went down for some typical mob bullshit with an Irish gang in town. My ma was a mess over his sentencing, even more than she usually was, so my grandparents took me for a few weeks. Yunno, just to get me away from the whole miserable sitch."
"How old were you?" Buffy asked quietly.
Faith shrugged. "Eleven or so. I mean, I probably shoulda been upset that my pops was gettin' locked up for life, but there I was, starving for attention and beyond excited that my grandparents were actually taking me someplace outside Boston. I'd never been farther than the city and surrounding 'burbs my entire life. So there I was, bopping along in the back seat of my Gramp's '87 Cutlass Supreme, so fucking excited to just be going somewhere. Fell asleep and woke up five hours later to what I thought was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."
"Where did they take you?"
"Lake Placid," Faith replied, a small smile on her face as memories washed over her, her gaze still fixed on some random point in the distance. "My Gramps had a cousin that lived there and we holed up at his cottage for a while. Swam every day, went canoeing, ran around like a little idiot. Was the best time of my life."
Buffy couldn't help but smile at that.
"I'm glad you have the memory," she said sincerely.
"Yeah," Faith agreed, nodding and slowly coming out of her memories. "Wanna know the fucked up thing though?"
"Okay," Buffy replied.
"Here I am, on the run from two different groups of people that want me dead. I've got a piece of string around my wrist stopping me from dropping dead on the spot and I don't know if I'm ever gonna be safe again. But this?" Faith gestured with her head to the area around them. "This right here is the most beautiful, best time of my life. And maybe it's Montana, but I'm pretty sure it mostly has to do with you."
Faith finally looked over at Buffy then, meeting her gaze for the first time since she began speaking. Her eyes were glistening in the moonlight and it filled Buffy with a feeling that, well, she didn't know quite how to describe and didn't dare to at that point.
Unable to speak, Buffy reached over and laced her fingers through Faith's, squeezing gently. Faith squeezed back, giving Buffy the smallest of smiles.
Without another word, they turned back toward the vista, watching the sun dip behind the mountains as they held tight to one another's hands.
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